


Tie Me in Knots

by shealynn88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Season/Series 05, Slice of Life, Tie Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 16:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18210911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: Cas buys the wrong ties.Cas leans in to examine the knot and then slowly starts untying it. There's a startling intimacy to it.“What are you doing?” Dean asks. His breath is steady and his tone irritated, just as he'd intended.Cas looks up at him from inches away, and he's all perfect hair and concerned eyes, all rough and square and so fucking sincere. “I'm fixing it.”





	Tie Me in Knots

With Sam off finding himself, Dean is left with Castiel.

Cas is painfully genuine. Sincerely puzzled. Irritatingly honest.

None of these traits really helps with hunting.

Dean gives him the easy stuff. Pick up coffee. Order pizza. Ask your buddies if they've heard any chatter on demons gathering at Ozzfest.

Supply runs are on the short list of things Cas can't really screw up.

Or so Dean thought.

“What is this?” he asks suspiciously.

“You said to get myself a suit and each of us a new necktie.”

“Yeah, right. Like the clip-on ones that got destroyed. Not this length of whatever-the-hell.”

Cas tips his head and looks puzzled. “These are neckties. They are black, and they are narrow, and they were neither the least nor the most expensive. I met all the criteria.”

Dean looks at them again. He's a Hunter. He ties things up all the time. This isn't a big deal.

He takes a deep breath and grabs one of the ties from the bed. “Fine. Whatever.”

Cas is ready in no time, standing there in his new suit and perfect tie, and Dean turns away to fight with the stubborn fabric knotted under his chin. When he turns around and Cas gives him that puzzled look again, he knows it's not right.

“Look, ties aren't really my gig, okay? I hunt things and I kill them.  Period. It's not typically a black tie event.”

“I'm sorry,” Cas says quietly. “I see I've upset you.” He steps in, and Dean shakes his head, taking a deep breath.

“It's not a big...”

He trails off as Cas leans in to examine the knot and then slowly starts untying it. There's a startling intimacy to it. 

“What are you doing?” Dean asks. His breath is steady and his tone irritated, just as he'd intended.

Cas looks up at him from inches away, and he's all perfect hair and concerned eyes, all rough and square and so fucking sincere. “I'm fixing it.”

“Ah, thanks,” Dean manages. The sarcasm is less successful.

Cas nods and goes back to work. Apparently Dean's really made a mess of it, because there is no quick slide to freedom the way Dean's watched Cas remove his tie. Instead there is a protracted series of low mumbles, and Cas's fingers at his throat.

They've never been this close for this long, and Dean's irritation fades into _awareness_. Fingers brushing his throat. Smooth hair that smells of rain, but not in a wet dog sort of way. More in a good, fresh, opposite-of-sulfur kind of way. A punctuation of hums and murmurs and a final exclamation of satisfaction as the knot is finally untied.

“Great,” Dean says, too loudly. “Let's-” He steps back hastily and is brought up painfully short by the firm grip Cas still has on his tie.

“I haven't finished,” Cas says mildly, tugging him forward again, in perfect control. He stumbles slightly and reaches out, ends up with a hand splayed over Cas's matching tie, rights himself and fingers the silk slide of it before he remembers himself.  He snatches his hand back and schools his face into impatience.

“Right,” he says stiffly. He lifts his chin to let Cas see better. Better get this thing over with.

There's a lot of movement – fabric smooth against his throat, and then the soft brush of knuckles. Fingers inside his collar to adjust it, slipping around to check that it's smooth. A sliding, silky sound and a controlling tug as Cas pulls one end of the tie and pushes the knot back against the top button. But still, he's not done, and Dean stands stock still as Cas smooths the front of his shirt to either side of the tie, then brushes his shoulders firmly. One more check of the collar, back to front, long fingers sliding against his skin, and Cas steps back.

“You look very good,” Cas tells him, and it comes across more as a fact than a compliment.

“Thanks,” Dean says, trying desperately to find his way back to the comfort of his casual banter.

Failing.

“You...you do, too, man.”

Cas's face lights up. “Thank you,” he says. “It seemed important to you.”

It's Dean's turn to cock his head. “Did it?”

Cas looks to the side and Dean can see him thinking, as if he has to translate the words. Finally, he looks back at Dean. “I know you want me to help you like Sam. To be a good...” He sweeps his hand down his suited look. “Agent. A good Hunter.” He shakes his head and Dean can see something painful – regret, maybe. “I know I can't be Sam for you. I would never try. But I want to be...something. I want to be what you need.”

Dean starts to say something. Stops.

Cas isn't Sam. He's the _opposite_ of Sam. Of both of them.

Cas is painfully genuine. Sincerely puzzled. Irritatingly honest.

Dean's voice is harsh when he answers.

“You are."


End file.
